Reparation
by suchsmallthings
Summary: Zuko has redeemed himself but now, as leader, he must redeem his nation for a century of warfare.  He will pay a dear, dear price.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Don't own Avatar or anything etc also don't own any of Neil Gaiman's awesomeness – I used his conception of Gods and also hello shout-out to _Fragile, Precious Things _and _American Gods! _I really didn't realize I had completely ripped off Gaiman's idea until reading through this D: Anyway so this was originally just a usual plot-bunny but now I think this might just have to be a three-parter TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK.

* * *

><p>He couldn't face the time when she was not his. It was strange going through the world without the knowledge that she would wait for him, that he was free to touch her as he wished, that she would be safe under his undivided protection. He hated to remember his life without the sweet caressing sound of her voice or the gentle fragrant tumble of her hair. All her grace, all her beauty, every giggling coo and murmur of pleasure under him, every smooth delicious line of her body, every curving silhouette, every taste of her…it was no longer his to take, it was no longer his right to possess.<p>

He remembered marking her. She was beautiful and writhing under him, begging for him so sweetly he could not resist kissing, then nibbling at, the long naked column of her neck. They were young, and she was exhausted, but even then he knew he marked her forever, he knew he would take her like this, with all the love in his heart, forever. And the next morning she wore his love on her body, wore his mark for him and blushed when she met his gaze. And she looked so sweet to him then – blushing and clutching at his loose over robe as it slipped off her shoulders – so sweet to him he almost shuddered with the intensity of his emotion, at the sheer painful ecstasy of being able to reach for her and feel her return his embrace.

He treasured every moment. Once, when he returned from a diplomatic trip he found her in his bed already, curled up on her side, her legs twining together. And he was surprised, and she shot up, and she blushed and her legs twisted and her back arched just a bit and he came to her and gave to her everything he could, all the things he was and hoped to be. And in the morning he lay there with her, memorizing her, ingraining her, clutching her to him tightly because he wanted to keep her by his side, like this, forever. She laughed as his grip on her gradually became a tickling caress, and he felt the vibration of her giggles strike him at his heart and that was when he truly knew that he was hers as much as she was his, no, more than she was his, because surely she wasn't ruled by his presence the way he was by hers, surely she didn't feel the beautiful horrible ache of desire well up within her at the mention of his name, in the same way he was by hers. Surely she was not bound to him, helpless to him, the same way he was by her.

He remembered another time, when her tears fell thick and salty to the floor, and her eyes then looked up at him with the purity of an infant's, and he took hold of her hands and warmed them, and when she told him her Gran Gran had passed he felt honored to share in her sorrow and her pain.

He remembered arguments, and heated confessions, and eras of distance followed by honeymoon closeness, remembered dull familiarity and electric romance.

Her toes, her eyes, her lips, her fingernails, the tendons of her ankle, the veins that stood out on her feet…every feature ingrained in his mind, so close to him still. Ah yes, he remembered…

It was all he could do, now. He fumbled with his pockets until he found her necklace, the ribbon already faded. He had made the right decision, he told his tired mind. He had saved his wife and his child. He had chosen to damn himself rather than have them suffer. They were free, somewhere, living what he could only hope was a happy, well-provided for life in maybe the middle ring of Ba Sing Se. Perhaps they were in the North Pole, with Katara resplendent in her furs and the child - their child - looking like a baby penguin-seal. Perhaps they were in his own Capitol. Perhaps, whispered a part of him, scathingly, they were begging on the streets just outside. _No, _he admonished himself. _This is Katara, that's why I didn't worry, she can take care of herself, she can take care of him, It's Katara - _and oh, Agni, he didn't even get to name his own son, whose eyes he had only just seen and whose hand he had only just held - his grip tightened on the ribbon and he caressed it with shaking fingers.

It was too painful to imagine them now, to imagine their lives and their futures without him. At first it was easy, he could tell himself that the Spirits had guided them safely to a distant harbor, that Katara had found easy work in the Poles as a waterbending Master or that her diplomatic skills and experience made her an asset at any Earth Kingdom court; that she lived in a right-sized house and was safe and happy, that the child perhaps had his eyes or his hair but everything else of Katara's and nothing else of his. At first he could dream of their happiness, of the precious soft skin of his son and the gentle cool touch of her hands, and the though that he had spared them saved his conscience.

But his dreams turned to nightmares, as he saw them walking in rags, as he saw his infant son crying for food, Katara on her knees somewhere, scrubbing floors, Katara and his son wandering, begging for shelter, as the Fire Lord slept in luxury on his massive, lonely bed. In the deepest depths of the darkness, he would lie awake, wondering what his son would be without a father, hoping desperately that someone would show him how to be a man. That someone took a vague, threatening shape, walking into their lives, holding his wife's hand, touching his wife's body, embracing her, memorizing her curves and the birthmark on her hip. There would be another man. And he would hold Zuko's son and take Zuko's wife at night and this was intolerable. His jealousy almost made him physically sick, and the selfishness of it all reminded him once more how little he was worthy of them.

And now, sleep comes rarely, only when he's too tired to think and too tired to remember. _I had no choice, _he told himself over and over again. _I had no choice but to lose them. I had no other option. _And it hurt all the more because there was.

* * *

><p><em>"Zuko, son of Ozai and Ursa, Lord of the Fire Nation, Husband to Katara, daughter of Hakoda and Kaya, soon to be father of the heir to the throne of the Fire Lord." <em>

_Zuko was on the throne, but he was surrounded by fire that was not his. He looked up, past the flames, and he saw, amidst endless darkness, a white hot heat flaring and pulsing with power, streaked through with red and blue flames, a forest fire and a flame all at once. He squinted a bit, because the flame seemed unfocused, somehow, and found that the flame was also a great black cobra, its eyes a fierce flaming gold, its scales shining like polished obsidian, and that it was also a dragon, the color of dull bronze, looking aged and decrepit, and finally that it was a man_, _cloaked in shadows, whose eyes alone remained sharp and golden and aflame. "Agni," he whispered, and stepped down from his throne to kowtow to his patron spirit. His head still bent to the ground, he heard a slither and looked up as the gleam of twisting coils caught his eye in the flame. He saw a man-snake, what was known as the Naga, and when Naga opened his mouth Zuko saw fangs. _

"_Rise, my son." Zuko stood, but kept his hands together out of respect, looking straight ahead. He didn't know why Agni would choose to talk to him, and, if Agni's track record with the human world were anything to go by, there was no good to come of it. "The sons and daughters of Fire have wrought havoc upon this world, Zuko. The balance was disturbed for too long. Even we, the greater gods, had to intervene."_

_"Yes, my lord. I was there, my lord." _

_Naga's eyes gleamed._ "_So you were child, and the spirits bless you for your deeds in helping the Avatar. The Spirits are not ungrateful. Remember that."_

_Somehow, the way the Spirit said it, though its voice was a hiss and a rumble and a feeble whine all at the same time, it made Zuko feel distinctly uncomfortable and on his guard. It reminded him of something..._

_"And yet the restoration of balance was a long time coming. My children have lain waste to too many forests and killed too many of their brethren. They have scarred the earth and dammed the waters. They forgot their loyalties to their Spirits and instead worshipped their tiny Lord." This last part echoed in his mind forcefully, painfully. His eyes watered._

_"We are trying to heal the world now, my lord, it needs time, but it will happen - and I have just commissioned a hundred new shrines for your pleasure."_

_Naga slithered closer to Zuko, but there was an almost paternal smile on his pale, slitted features. "I know, my son. You bring honor back to the House of Agni._

"_And so you must do so again." This time Naga turned away, the massive black coils of his tail moving like velvet darkness. "You were born to bring honor back to my house. You were born with the spirits of the sages and warriors of this world in you. You were born to lead this Nation."_

_Zuko felt his heart soar even as he cautiously followed the retreating snake man. He abruptly kowtowed again. "Thank you, my lord." _

_His response, however, was merely a long hiss that sounded almost like a sigh. "Do rise, my son. Now is not the time to be thanking me. Not just yet." The sinking feeling from earlier returned and Zuko remembered what it reminded him of: talking to Azula._

"_Your life has not been easy. Your happiness has been hard-won. You have successfully redeemed yourself in the eyes of both worlds. Now you must redeem your people."_

_"My lord?" But now the infinite darkness gave way to a massive hall lined with Spirits he recognized and some he did not. He could pick out Tui and La almost immediately, circling fish who were also mer-people who continually shifted between woman and man, dark and light. He saw Bumi, the Earth Goddess who was at once beautiful young maiden and stout mother, and the shimmering outlines of Varuna in the breeze, and the bent, elderly figure of Fugasu, and the sumptuous presence of seductive Siri Kuam. But there seemed to be hundreds of others, all shifting forms it hurt his eyes to look at for too long, and all - unmistakenly - staring at him. Agni led him to the end of the hall, where, sitting behind a massive desk, stood the imposing figure of Yama. Unlike the other spirits, the God of Death maintained a single, stable form, much like Agni after settling on Naga. Zuko kowtowed again, in front of the desk, and his heart beat in his ears when he was told to rise. Yama sounded like a thousand books closing. Forever. _

_"Son of Ozai." Yama looked down at his scrolls, considering. "The spirits you see before you have all been wronged by your people. They demand retribution to restore balance." At his last word a gigantic set of scales appeared. In one plate he saw a flame, which weighed heavily. In the other he saw a rock and a leaf and water. Zuko wanted to say something, growing more and more weary of what was going on, but one sideways glance at Naga told him to stay quiet and let Yama speak. _

_"However, your contributions to the restoration must be taken into account..." Here he saw a blank-faced version of himself seated on the side of the flame. Somehow this lightened the plate and the scales came closer together. But they were not even. Yama smiled his tusked smile. "Almost, son of Ozai. Your heart is pure indeed to lighten the sins of a century." _

_There was a commotion amongst the spirits. Zuko felt briefly the silent screams of trees as they burned, the call of mothers to their daughters during attacks, the fear of new recruits marching to suicide, the pain of separation from the pack. It forced him back down on his knees. Yama glared at the hall and slammed his lasso on his desk like a gavel. The hall quieted and Zuko was released. "The scales are not even. You, son of Ozai. Will you pay the dues of your people or shall your nation suffer?"_

_"I won't let my people suffer. What is the price?" Zuko glanced at Naga, who nodded, before going on. "But, before we proceed, I would like to put forth my view. Surely my people have much suffering in the future. Our nation must pay reparations, we will be in debt for at least fifty years, our military is dissolved indefinitely, our industry is dying - the Fire Nation is falling, and it is falling hard. My Lord," he added. "my people pay dearly every day for the mistakes of their - of my - of our forefathers. I don't think we should be held responsible now for what the Spirits allowed for a century." _

_"The scales decide in this realm, child. And though I personally like your honesty," here Yama gave Zuko a ghastly wink, "it seems like you have learned nothing from Iroh considering the affairs of the Spirit World. We will forgive your ignorance in respect to your willingness to save your country from further difficulty." Zuko's ears were beginning to redden, but before he could point out that Yama had not actually answered any of his points the God of Death went on. "The price...the price must be something that holds enough love to counteract hate, it must be something that will give retribution to those who have suffered and have felt pain. It must be something close to you, something you hold very dear."_

_Yama sounded thoughtful, twirling the rope absently between his fingers. Zuko didn't like it. He knew this was going nowhere good. About time, he thought. His life had been too happy, earlier. Things were going too well. Too many blessings. And now, as Yama and Agni had just confirmed, the Spirits were out to get him yet again. _

_He felt surprisingly at ease with the fact that he was the Spirit's sacrificial lamb. Somehow, he felt, perhaps he knew it all along, knew that his struggle was much more than _just _his struggle. After all, he did deserve whatever the Spirits had to throw at him, and being Ozai's son had made him hate himself almost as much as he thought the spirits did. But now, now he had happiness and it was Katara, and he found himself desperately thinking of everything else to give away that would protect her. _

_He would, too. He would give it all away, happily. He would restore the balance, and make the spirits happy, and spare his people. _

_"Well?" Yama looked at him expectantly. _

_"I'm sorry, my lord?" _

_"What shall my price be?"_

_"I'm sorry, my lord?"_

_"Tell me, Zuko. What will equalize the scales?"_

_"I...I don't know my lord." He searched his mind desperately. Yama gave him an eternity in which to think. He thought back on his life. What would equalize the scales? A turtle-duck pond? Memories of his mother? The feel of belonging when he joined the Gaang? Iroh's love? There were so many things, he realized, he held dear. There were so many things, so many fragile, precious things from which he didn't think he could bear to part._

_This pain, he realized. As he thought of the fight for the throne, of all the things he worked so hard for, he remembered houses, shops being burned. He remembered the look on a woman's face as her son rushed off to join the militia in a small Earth Kingdom town. People, he thought, building their lives, collecting precious things only to have them destroyed by war..._

_Yama cleared his throat. "In your own time, my child." Zuko thought Yama sounded gentler now. He looked down at Zuko, and for a Fire Lord he felt very small. _

_Zuko looked at the scales again, then at the myriad spirits before him. No. they would want something more than just memories. They would want - no - they would need the pain. They would need something hard-earned taken away. And he couldn't give up the truly most important thing to him. There had to be a way. There had to be away. Think. What was so integral...what was so close to him..._

_"My throne." Yama looked surprised at the ready admission. "I give my throne."_

_Zuko felt that something more was expected of him, so he explained. "I spent most of my life trying to claim it. First from my father, then from my sister. I wanted it because it was my right. And I achieved it. Finally. After everyone said I couldn't." _

_"Place the throne on the scales," said Yama, and there, the throne appeared. the scales evened more, but not enough. Just as Zuko was beginning to understand the implications of what he'd just given up, the throne disappeared. "It is not precious enough. The spirits will not receive their retribution with this payment." _

_"What? I mean, what, my lord? It's everything I worked for, for years," Zuko said incredulously. "How is that not enough?"_

_"The scales are law here, my child." A distant bell tolled, and Yama looked into the distance. "We will conclude the weighing for now. Morning calls. Think carefully." _

_And then Naga led him back into darkness._

* * *

><p>And then Zuko woke up. He blinked a few times - he felt as though he'd been asleep forever, and something about last night left him feeling...unsettled. Every time he blinked he thought he could see the slither of jet black scales darting just out of sight. Blindly, he reached, and his hand met warm flesh, currently sprawled around the majority of the bed. Strangely, he felt as though he had just dodged a fireball to the chest and the need to hold his beloved overwhelmed him. He tugged her to himself familiarly if gently, enjoying her soft sleepy mewl of consent and the feel of her against him. He let his hands wander lightly over her, over the heavy swell of her belly and the gentler swells of her breasts. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck and breathed in deeply - and it was enough to bring him back. It always was, even after the worst nightmares, even after the sleepless tumultuous nights spent worrying about how his country would survive.<p>

In time she woke too, and as she playfully tousled his hair and complained loudly about what he did to her he smiled, and he helped her out of bed and hovered over her as she walked until she snapped at him to stop, she may have been pregnant but she wasn't injured, didn't he have more important things to be working on anyway? To which he replied no, he did not, in fact, and intended to monitor her closely all day. He nipped her neck at the spot that made her melt, and after a few (many) minutes spent in sweet harmony they made their way downstairs for breakfast.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I don't own Avatar: the Last Airbender, because it belongs to Mike and Brian. Augh this chapter was hard to write - i set a tone with the first one I'm not too comfortable with so my apologies if it feels uneven in this one. Also I think I might have thrown a little bit too much at once into this, but I consider this fic to be as much an exploration of the spirit world as it is of Zuko's character. So with that all nicely prefaced (as one should never do) please enjoy this latest chapter!

* * *

><p>"There is much to be done, my lord. The people are eager to see an heir. It will lend some…stability to your current rule." The advisor was young, looking fresh out of the Academy, and yet, Zuko noticed wryly, still spoke with the hidebound righteousness of his oldest ministers.<p>

"Stability? I think you meant credibility, Honzi. Or possibly validity. Either way we are absolutely _not _having a public Naming. We can't even begin to afford it!"

"But I've already picked out some decorative silk hangings – here, at least see these absolutely _exquisite _samples the royal seamstress sent for the Naming robes –" Zuko started as his adviser eagerly hefted a large box of…stuff onto his desk. Honzi pulled out at least three different samples, going on in enthusiastic detail about the brocade on this and the gold trim on that, before he noticed the cloth singing. He stopped abruptly, sniffed, then with a huff took hold of the box. "Well, your humble servant does apologize for trying to better your reign, I'm sure," he muttered in stiff accents. "Just don't come crying to me when the people think the Fire Lord is an impotent weakling." If it was possible to flounce in stately court attire, he would have.

As his adviser retreated Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. This was not what he had in mind when he said he wanted to bring the country together. He didn't want it to be like before, with the monarchy displaying its wealth and power to the people – he wanted to share it with them! The brief twinge of guilt he felt towards Honzi disappeared as he gazed out the window. He was exhausted, and it was only just after dinner. And for some reason he felt uneasy, threatened. And this made him impatient and put him in a foul mood.

He rang a bell. "Bring me the Fire Lady," he said to the serving girl, before turning in his chair to look out onto the sunset. It was beautiful, and, like every sunset, reminded him of that time, years ago: a flash of blue light, a sudden purpose, a blinding pain, an almost-kiss, an almost-goodbye…

"You rang?" He whipped around to see her, full and safe and wearing his silks. The serving girl bowed as he waved her away dismissively. "Thank you, Minat," his wife said pointedly before striding over to his desk.

He exhaled when her cool hands came to cup his face, leaning into her as she cradled his head to her. "What's wrong?" she murmured. "You haven't been yourself today. First you cancel the morning's meetings, miss lunch, then you hurt poor Honzi's feelings, you know how hard he worked on the planning for the Naming, and now I hear that you've been curt with the servants all day – "

"Please." Something in his voice must have caught her, since she silenced immediately, and abruptly pushed him away from her only to take his chin and look into his eyes. "Please, Katara, just sit here with me." Words were too much, right now. He felt strange, and threatened, and oh, how he loved her in this moment and in all moments to come, oh how he wanted to run from this castle and go back, back to the tea shop and _take _orders for a change, and live simply and of course with Katara - always, as in any fantasy, with Katara…

"Zuko," she said. As ever, his name from her lips was sweet to him, and she stared deep into his eyes. She was going to say something, he could tell. And it would be sensible and right, and probably helpful.

He needed to be indulged, though, just this once. He opened his mouth and even he was half-surprised at what came out. "Let's go." Her eyes grew wide in bewilderment.

"What?"

"Let's go. Let's leave – I'll bring Honzi, you bring Minat and, and a midwife – let's go. Anywhere you want. How would you like to visit Sokka and Suki? Or Aang? Or Toph? Anyone. Anywhere. Let's just go."

"We can't," she reminded him gently. His head hurt. He needed her close. "We can't leave until the end of the year, you know that. It was in _your _proposed budget."

"I can order them all here for you! They can't turn down the Fire Lord's invitation," countered, hearing his own desperation.

"Please, Zuko," she murmured, softly, ignoring him. "Please tell me what's wrong." At his reticence she continued, "Or I'll have to bend it out of you."

He smiled inwardly at her concern, at the continual beauty of being cared for and caring in return. "Bending can't be good for the baby," he said by way of response, before getting a grip on himself and tightening his jaw.

"I'm the master healer here, in case you've forgotten, and I'll decide what is and isn't good for my child." But her eyes were smiling and he suddenly felt much, much better. "Look, I know we can't go out, but how about we take an early night?" she leaned back on his desk. "I think we could think of a few things to occupy our time…" before he could speak she added, "And the baby will be _fine_. Can't say the same for you, though."

He let his hands grip her, feeling her begin to melt just as she always did when he tightened his hold on the back of her neck. His lips descended, hungry and searching, and she smiled into his scalp. No, this wasn't enough, this wasn't enough contact, he needed more, he needed to get closer...he held her wrists tightly behind her so she couldn't leave his embrace, kissed her deeply and unthinkingly until he felt the smile drop and her limp hands struggle against him. He slumped into her shoulder, releasing her hands, and they shared a few panting breaths together.

She drew back somewhat, and searched his face. "No, this isn't right. Zuko, look at me. Before we go any further, you _are _going to tell me what's going on with you. I haven't seen you look this hunted since our wedding day."

She took his hand, then, and led him out the room. His paperwork remained forgotten. His thoughts were consumed.

* * *

><p>"<em>Welcome back, son of Ozai." He blinked a few times in the darkness before Naga's scales glimmered in front of him. He lit a fire in his palm and found his god slithering away once more. He followed, more out of a lack of anything else to do than anything else. As they walked he remembered his last time in the Spirit World, and his stomach dropped. What would he put on the scales? What cost could be enough? How would he pay?<em>

_When Agni spoke, his hissing gravelly voice broke through his thoughts. "You lied to your wife." Zuko started._

"_What? How did you know? I mean, no! I mean… Were you – were you watching us?" Agni's fangs gleamed as he smiled._

"_Calm yourself, child. The Spirits know and see everything in this world, from the dawn of time to the end of the cosmic unraveling." He let out a long hiss, what Zuko assumed was a sigh. "You humans..." he sounded wistful, "I don't think I shall ever fully understand you." Zuko wondered hotly what the god meant by that._

"_Well, I didn't really lie to her," Zuko said uncomfortably. "I didn't remember my last dream. I mean, my last visit here. I told her I felt threatened by the nobles. Technically, that's all I really remember being bothered about." But he also didn't tell her how beleaguered he felt, how the sense he was failing in his protection of something precious tortured him all week…_

"_Did Iroh really teach you nothing?" Agni cocked his head and stopped. Zuko avoided bumping into his massive tail. "You have the knowledge. You know. You remember. But you've locked it away, in the way of humans. In the world of the living, you will remember only what you wish to. You will see only what is put before you. But I shall help you. Kneel, and I will do for you what you cannot do for yourself." Zuko couldn't help bristling just a bit – he was always embarrassed at any lack of knowledge and when it was exposed his pride was hurt. But he knelt respectfully all the same and the Naga touched his forehead gently and Zuko felt something in his mind open, and then he blinked as he got up._

"_Thank you, my lord," Zuko said uncertainly. Naga's form seemed different, somehow, and he couldn't place it until he realized that now, rather than the shifting, insubstantial forms Agni had taken earlier, Naga seemed more solid and concrete. At the same time Zuko could see how Agni was also the flame and the dragon and the snake and the man and yet they seemed real as well. He didn't know how he didn't see it before – it was like one of the trick images that the novelty vendor once sold him in a fair – how if he looked at a picture it was at first a simple landscape and then actually a group of musicians and when he looked at it again he didn't know how he couldn't see the musicians before. And he knew with sudden certainty that the darkness around him wasn't really darkness, but was instead the collection of shadows cast by the real world, that he was still in the world but also apart from it, that he was in the spaces between sounds and air and silence. _

_When they arrived at the judgment hall, the spirits were waiting. He knelt before Yama, who smiled down his tusks and adjusted the massive golden rings on his claws. "Rise, my son." Zuko felt that perhaps he heard a note of affection in his ringing, sorrowful voice. "Once again, we ask for reparation. Bring the scales!"_

_And the massive scales appeared. And Zuko knew what the price was, saw it clearly in his head. Agni's gift seemed to have even more power in the hall, for even though he fought not to say it the words clawed their way to his throat. He bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood when he heard himself begin to speak, then clamped his hands over his mouth when he tried to say it again. he slumped over with the effort to hold it in - he couldn't give in, not to this, not so simply - _

_Agni's hand on his shoulder made him turn around. His mouth opened to accuse and beg, but instead it betrayed him. And when he said it, he felt a hot burn in his eyes that had nothing to do with fire._

"_I give you my happiness. I give you my life. I give you my union …with Katara." His voice was a whisper, and he saw how easily his defeat was met, how simply he discarded his wife and lover and child. _

_There was a soft creak, and a collective gasp. When he finally looked up, he saw her, and resisted the urge to run to her. She looked serene and impassive, wearing not her royal regalia but instead her simple tribe robe, sitting peacefully on the scales and holding a bundle of cloth – clearly their child. His child. His wife, his child, sitting there. His heart soared before it plummeted, and he knew that this was how he would see them, this would be his last memory of them, oh, Agni, he had bargained them so easily he felt like a swindling beggar, but it was the only way, it was the only way, it was the only – _

_His eyes widened. The scale was tipped…in _his _favor? He looked at Agni, who looked at Yama, who stared hard at Zuko. _

"_It appears…that the sum outweighs the price." Even Yama sounded taken aback. "Child, it seems that your love for this daughter of water is indeed very… very precious." After a pause he added, "I don't pretend to understand the tipping of these scales, nor fully the scales themselves. I shall have to consult another in this most…unusual case." Another, longer pause, during which Zuko entertained brief hope. "This is most unorthodox. There is no precedent!" The spirit's gaze held something just behind Zuko's shoulder. After uncertainly brushing off his shoulder a few times Zuko realized that "Yama was talking to someone, but even with his new clarity he couldn't tell to whom. "Agni has responsibility for his son – I doubt you could intervene..." Yama narrowed his eyes. "Yes, I know that this is not in the bargain. For the love of the Mandala would you at least make yourself known?"_

_And then a light, feminine voice answered, "The scales are not providing many answers, are they?" The texture of the air changed – for a moment, all was as it should be, he was in bed having an unsettling dream with the concrete knowledge of the world around him, and then he blinked. And look, Katara was there, before him, wearing her thin sleeping robe. He gave her a sheepish smile she didn't return, of course, how could he forget that she had been here, with him, all along? He was comforted that they were facing this together – and then the air changed again and wait, why had he just thought of Katara when clearly this new woman had been next to him the entire time, guiding him? She didn't even look like his wife – her skin was a bit darker, her hair was jet back like her eyes, and she wore the layered skirts and scraps of silk and heavy jewelry of the sea-gypsies of the outer islands. _

_He blinked again, and Agni's gift brought him back into himself. "Who are you?" he asked the lady unsteadily, who, he realized, was the most beautiful he had ever seen. Perhaps it was the way she reminded him of Katara, with her dark skin and gentle eyes. _

_She gave him a look. "Well, I see the boy hasn't inherited his uncle's charms." However she came closer, just enough to make him take a step back. "But he shows promise." And just like that she was holding a tambourine when clearly she hadn't before – Zuko knew this, and yet…perhaps if he concentrated…"No no no no, stop that!" He gave a bewildered grunt. She sighed exquisitely. "Agni's gift won't help you, you know. Not with my powers." And here she turned to Agni, walking towards him with a decidedly different demeanor. She undulated, her hips swaying so much her beaded belt jangled its shells, her shoulders set more delicately, her tambourine held alluringly behind her back. Zuko had been in the presence of women enough to know that this walk was something to fear rather than enjoy, because any time Katara had walked towards him like that, or lowered her voice breathily or arched her back just slightly he was always rendered powerless. _

_And yet Agni remained impassive, his tail vanishing in a billow of black smoke to be replaced by human legs, as strong and pale as the rest of him. "Perhaps you would do the honors," she told him. Agni's arm shot out but the woman simply danced away coquettishly. His outstretched hand made a fist and he rumbled, " Maya. Consort to the god of fire." _

_Bell-like laughter. "Look at the poor child, he's absolutely confused! You aren't giving anything away by explaining, Agni." And now she was behind Zuko, tapping him gently on the shoulder. He turned sharply and she smiled maternally. He was reeling, he was lost, his anchor was gone, and this latest assault on his senses did nothing to improve his state of mind. He couldn't see straight, much less respond to these terrible spirits!  
><em>

"_I don't understand," he said shakily._

"_All you children of fire are alike," she murmured, before continuing. "I'm sure I confused you with all my showing off- I do love putting on a good show, and all these Spirits can be so uptight – " _

"_We don't have much time," interjected Yama, with an air of long-suffering._

"_See what I mean? But since you insist, let me explain, properly. What I choose to disguise and hide is disguised and hidden from all – in this realm and in yours. And you must know how stuck up some of these spirits can be in this realm. Well, I _say _realm, and yet…oh, it's so hard to explain these things to humans in a way that you will understand. Look, have your studies mentioned the Great Illusion?"_

_Zuko grasped onto the familiar term like a lifeboat. "Yes, it's in the great philosophical scrolls of the fire sages. They believe that we all live in a single great illusion, that the world is illusory itself, and that truth can only be held in the core of a flame. I believe my uncle discussed at length the metaphysical repercussions of this, but I don't fully recall…"_

"_Asleep, I imagine. But yes, yes, very good, full marks. Right. So they are almost right, as right as humans can be about these things, I suppose. If the world is an illusion, then it can be manipulated, and controlled. If the world is just a mirage, its nature can change," she snapped, "just like that. Just imagine the possibilities! I can make things real, and I can erase things from existence, and I can make it so that some things always were or have never been." Despite her cheerfulness and her apparent familiarity, Zuko felt her power instinctively, and his heartbeat quickened. What did she want with him? What did she have to do with the scales? _

"_You…you can make things disappear?" He felt his mind finally working, racing with momentary hope, recalled every scrap of text he studied with the Sages._

"_I make things never come into being at all." There was an undertone, now, to her voice, one that should not have come from such beautiful lips. At a closer glance, her black eyes seemed depthless, flat as only the deepest space could be. _

"_And you can make people disappear." _

"_I make people never even be born." Zuko noticed for the first time the utter silence that had fallen in the judgment room. The sprits were still there, still lining the hall, and yet they seemed to be trapped in a sort of stillness, their eyes glued to him. _

_Yama leaned down. "Maya is acting as the collector of your debt, my boy. It is she who will have the final say in how your reparation is paid. The scales have presented us with a unique problem, which I pass over to her to deal with at her discretion. And I advise the two of you to come to an agreement soon," he added. "The boy wakes, and it is only a few days until the new moon."_

_Agni took Zuko by the shoulder and guided him out of the hall once more. He felt strangely numb, and Maya's words echoed in his head. He had just given over his wife. He had given over his wife and his child to these goddamned spirits…what would they do to her? Would they kill her? Would they do worse, and…erase her? Oh, Agni above they would take his wife and child and they would rip them and cut them from the fabric of time like they did with everyone's lives, as if they were nothing more than two errant threads in a cloth, the Spirits who he thought were so wise and far-seeing would make it a point of petty vindication to steal the lives of two beings who were surely the most cherished on this earth…_

"_That is not how the spirit world works." Agni's voice surprised him. Had he spoken the words aloud?_

"_No, and you don't need to, here. But you did call for me, and so I answered." _

"_Oh. Uh, I'm sorry, my lord." _

_Agni stopped abruptly. "Perhaps you should seek advisement about your time here, since you come here with so little knowledge."_

"_My uncle is abroad, my lord." It didn't matter, anyway. They were taking her away, just as they took her mother and his childhood and every other instance of his happiness. What was there left to fight for, now? What was there left to understand except that of all the wondrous things he could never save, of all the beautiful things he had broken, it was this last easy concession of his happiness and her presence that so cleverly ensured his ruin._

"_Surely the Avatar may be of use? As I understand it, he may at least ensure their happiness and security." _

_Aang. Of course. He would have to be brought into this. And everyone else, of course – why couldn't he just tell them, they'd all figure something out, wouldn't they? They always had, hadn't they? If anyone, it was the old gang that could save Katara! There had to be a way, another way, to appease the spirits without making his people suffer. And if there wasn't? If there wasn't, then at least he could make sure Katara and their child were happy and safe somewhere, he could have Sokka and Suki and Toph and Aang check up on her and keep her company. And he could watch, from afar, like a helpless prisoner…_

_As he felt himself fall back into the world, into his bed, into himself, he thought that it was fitting he would have to run to the Avatar for help, and have to go back on another promise.  
><em>


End file.
